Whatever
by BrDPirateMan
Summary: When Eiji falls from stardom and becomes a penniless wretch, how does he cope with his sad life, mired in poverty and bad luck? Oh, such crushing misery! This is the ultimate Prince-bashing story you've been waiting for!
1. Chapter 1

**Whatever (Part 1)  
**by BrDPirateMan

"Prince! Prince!"

"We love you!"

"Marry me!"

The 5,000-strong crowd was going nuts. Their collective cheering was louder than the Concorde taking off. They were screaming their heads off because of the presence of the hugely popular pop star in front of them.

Eiji Oji, more popularly known as The Prince.

He was the legendary J-Pop singer with albums and franchises and numerous other cash cows at his fingertips. Girls flocked to see him, guys wished they could be him. His blog, "F Everything", where the F word meant Fabulous and not what you would normally think, saw close to a million hits per day. His influence was so powerful that he could sway and bend the trends to his will. If he walked down the streets wearing a set of new clothes, everyone would be clambering to the nearest boutique to buy them. If he F'ed a new ramen shop on his blog, it would be full house by the next day.

The Prince was the very epitome of superstar greatness. He was unparalleled in talent and in success.

His latest concert was highly anticipated to be the greatest event of the year, if not the decade. He had practiced countless times, and was by now in 100% sync with his posse of dancers, back-up singers and musicians. A smile spread across his dashing face, and he winked at the audience, which comprised mostly girls in their tender teenage years. Everyone went wild.

He opened his mouth to belt out one of his most famous songs, a weird warbling medley about watching clear skies and fighting back angst. The air was electric and many of the concert-goers were so moved by his performance that they wept and fainted and had to be whisked away by security.

When the last note of the song sounded, the crowd applauded and yelled their approval. The concert stage at A-East threatened to vibrate and disintegrate into a million pieces with their powerful screams. Looking at how much attention he was getting, The Prince couldn't resist a smirk. He was pleased with himself. As usual, he had achieved perfection. But it couldn't be helped, seeing as he _was_ perfection itself.

XOXOXOXOXO

Too bad that was all just a dream.

The only screams that greeted him came from the radio of the alarm clock. Some heavy metal vocalist was wailing away and that woke him up for the morning. And on a Saturday too, when people should be resting and not working.

When The Prince realized that he was in his bedroom and not at A-East, he grumbled, inclined to smash his clock into the wall. But that was the only clock he had in his apartment, and he hardly had any money left to buy a new one, so he spared its miserable existence.

Apartment, you say? Yes, my friend, your eyes do not fail you. It is only natural for one to think that a famous superstar like him would stay in the penthouse of a very luxurious hotel, or at least a posh condominium with adjoining personal pool and servants at his beck and call. But in his current condition, the only place he could stay without living beyond his means was this dingy, stuffy, cramped hellhole of a common apartment in the suburbs.

The reason was simple. The Prince had chalked up a serious debt. Blinded by the vast amount of wealth he had accumulated over his career, he gradually took things for granted and started to spend his money on increasingly expensive things. Squandering his money away on various things ultimately led to his downfall. He already had several sports cars for his own personal use, but when he bought himself a brand new Rolls-Royce, arguably the most expensive car in existence, it marked the beginning of the end for him.

He didn't even think twice when he paid for it in full. But he had bitten off more than he could chew, and he soon realized that his savings were reaching the comparatively low amount of five digits, quite a shocking difference from the millions of yen that he used to hoard.

However, he thought to himself that he could bounce back soon, what with the sales of his albums and whatnot. But with inflation rearing its ugly head at the worst possible time, his income was weakening severely. Unfortunately, he was also short-sighted enough to buy several other costly tiddlywinks on an impulse. Which left him with even less money than before.

On top of that he had the audacity to dabble in a fair bit of gambling, something he wasn't good at. He never won a single game and lost a lot of money. Also deserving of special mention was the time when he…

Hmmm, you know, I can tell you're not listening. I'm sure you're all like "Get on with the story already" and all that. Indeed, it's so troublesome having to tell you each and every detail of his life. So do a Google search on him or go look him up on Wikipedia or something. I don't care. Like, whatever. Let us get back to the meat of this tale so you can be HAPPY.

What you _do_ need to know, however, is that his contract with his recording studio had ended but they decided not to renew it, favouring other up-and-coming singers like Princess K, the entrepreneur-cum-artiste, over him. No other company wanted to forge a deal with him either. In short, he now had no source of income. He was broke.

Unable to maintain his high standard of living any longer, he made the first prudent decision in a long time: move out of his lavish home and downgrade to a simpler, easier-to-maintain one.

And that was how he wound up in the suburbs, cooped up in an uncomfortable apartment with no air-conditioning to cool the summer heat.

"Dammit," he cursed, sweating from head to toe. "Summer really stinks big time." How he longed to take a nice bath in a Jacuzzi. That would be most splendid, not like the showers with the rickety taps that he was forced to use, now that he had to live like some lowly commoner.

A loud banging on his door made The Prince nearly jump out of his moth-eaten bed. The voice that shouted through his door sounded like it came from a middle-aged lady, and an angry one at that. "Eiji! I hope you're ready to pay this week's rent!"

"Uh, why, of course, Mrs Kitamura!" stammered the ex-pop star, truly terrified of his landlady. "I'll get it ready by, um, this weekend!"

"It's Saturday today," growled the landlady. "It _is_ the weekend."

"Oops. W-Well, how about tomorrow, then?"

"I'm tired of waiting, but fine! Give me your rent by tomorrow or I'll have to kick you out!"

"Y-Yes, ma'am!" The footsteps of the unseen landlady shuffled away, leaving him in peace again.

He fell back onto the pillow and rested a hand on his forehead. "How the hell am I going to find 30,000 yen, when I only barely have enough to buy myself a bowl of ramen?"

Then his tummy rumbled. "Oh cripes. Speaking of which, I gotta get breakfast now. It looks like it'll have to be shio ramen…" It was the least expensive full meal that he knew of. "Wait. Do I have enough money?"

He intended to have breakfast at Ramen Don, the shop of his old friend Ken Doi. Shio ramen was the cheapest item on sale, at 580 yen. Now if only he could scrounge up enough cash… He had to hurry too; he was to start work in an hour's time. If you're sharp enough to wonder why he had to work on a Saturday, the reason will be evident in time to come.

"Okay, 300… 400… 500… good, only 80 yen left…" The Prince flipped through his wallet. "10, 20…50, 60, 70… Dammit… I'm 10 yen short… And even though Ken's my old buddy, he wouldn't cut me some slack and treat me to any freebies…" Ken Doi was well-known for being firm with his customers. It didn't matter if you were his friend, a relative or a famous figure, but if you didn't have the right amount of cash, then no deal.

The Prince got on his hands and feet, crawling around the room searching for loose change. There were usually some coins left behind under the bed or behind the TV. He checked those places thoroughly but his hands emerged bare, covered only with dust and cobwebs. He was getting desperate and combed through his wallet again.

"Oh god, please be kind to me today," he prayed, shaking his wallet vigorously to dislodge any spare change that may have gotten wedged in the corners. "Please… I'm hungry… I need to eat too… I don't want to go hungry throughout the morning again…" He was sick of working nonstop for half a day without any breakfast to tide him over until lunch.

As though his wish was granted, a single coin dropped onto the faded carpet with a dull sound. Upon closer inspection, it was what he had been looking for all this while… a ten yen coin.

With tears of gratitude welling up in his eyes, he reached out a trembling hand and picked it up gently. "Yes… Yes! This was sent by angels!" he cried with joy, "Finally, after starving for one whole week, I can finally have breakfast! Shio ramen, here I co –"

And then, like a bad dream, the coin inexplicably split into two. Right down the middle. The two halves fell out of his fingers onto the carpet, useless and without any monetary value. He shivered, incredulous and frustrated, wondering if he was still sleeping. But he couldn't wake from this nightmare, because he was already awake. So he considered gluing the ruined coin back together, but remembered that he had no glue. Asking the neighbours for some was out of the question, though. They didn't like him.

"Why god why!" He curled up into a fetal position and howled to the moon... er, sun (it was morning, remember?). The poor guy. Today would be the eighth day in a row without any breakfast. He had just broken his own personal record.

XOXOXOXOXO

"Welcome to Sunshine!"

A customer had arrived at Sunshine Fast Food and it was The Prince's duty to serve him with a bright smile and a cheery attitude. For that was his day job: as a lowly employee of a fast-food restaurant.

And yes, I know you're probably saying "WTF?" right now. Come on, he was The Prince, not The Waiter.

It couldn't be helped. There was nothing else he could do.

But now you know why he's working on a Saturday. Sunshine Fast Food is open seven days a week.

Dozens of times he had lamented the shame of working in such a place. On the stage he was larger than life, with trends to command and fans to bow before him. But now, stripped of his fame and glory, trapped with a dead-end job that paid many times lesser than what he would have gotten as a singer, he seemed so very insignificant.

These days, he wasn't The Prince anymore. He was simply… Eiji. Eiji Oji.

He had cried countless times. He could cry now too, in fact. But he doubted his manager would be happy if he was seen welcoming customers with a teary face. It wouldn't be good for business. He had to smile and be bright like sunshine, said his boss, otherwise their restaurant wouldn't be called Sunshine Fast Food. As pathetic as he had become, he still had a job to perform. And money to earn, as well as a stomach to fill.

The door swung open to reveal two customers who had come in together. A guy and a girl. _Must be a couple_, he mused.

"Welcome to Sunshine!" he said, beaming widely, although he was really weeping on the inside.

Both the boy and girl wore startled looks on their faces when they saw Eiji. It was the look of one who recognized the face of a person, but wasn't too sure if they were correct. After a moment of hesitation, the boy said, "Get us a garden salad and a hot dog."

"Would you like fries with that, sir?" asked Eiji, wincing inwardly that he had to stoop so low to call a commoner "sir". He was The Prince! Others should be calling him "sir" or "Mr Oji" or even "Your Majesty". It was not supposed to be the other way around. The only way people called him now was by his maiden name, or simply with a nameless "Hey". He could never accept this.

"No thanks. Oh, and two Cokes, please."

"Coming right up, sir. Please, have a seat."

The guy motioned his girlfriend to find them an unoccupied table, which she did. He stayed behind at the counter. It was clear he had something to say.

"Is there anything I can help you with, sir?" asked Eiji.

The boy shot him a piercing gaze with his blue eyes, partially hidden under spiky orange tresses. "You're The Prince, aren't you?"

_Who's this?_ thought Eiji, _a fan?_ Was he here to offer some comforting words, give him a pat on the back or even ask for his autograph? Hope rose in his battered heart. A kind word would go a long way in healing his soul. It was ironic that in his superstar days, he would be showered with a deluge of praises and he wouldn't even take notice. At last, just for one day or even half a day, life would seem more bearable.

Self-conscious of his ruined image, his answer came out with much less confidence than he had hoped. "Uh, I _am_ Eiji Oji, and y-yeah… I am… well, I used to be The Prince. That was a long time ago."

The boy's mouth curled up in one corner in a cruel snicker. "I knew it," he chuckled. "I knew you're the one who called me a spicy tuna roll!"

"I beg your pardon?" stammered Eiji, feeling uneasy from the boy's stare.

"And here you are selling spicy tuna rolls yourself. Or whatever it is that you sell. Heh."

Eiji was annoyed by the boy's behaviour, but as a professional, he had to keep his cool, though it was hard to do so. He wasn't The Prince anymore. He couldn't yell and make ludicrous demands such as asking his subordinates to buy sushi from a bar fifty miles away just because the packaging came in his favourite colour. He couldn't stomp his foot and shout how much he hated something and needed it to be replaced. Now, he could do nothing.

The boy gave a quick snort of contempt before returning to his seat. His girlfriend started stroking his hand lovingly and asked, "Neku, what's up? You were saying something to that waiter guy."

"Yeah, I thought I saw him from somewhere," said Neku, sweeping his orange locks backwards over his scalp. "Look closely, Shiki. Know him?"

The girl, Shiki, adjusted her glasses and took a long hard look at the blonde waiter with the handsome face. She recognized him.

"Why, that's The Prince of Ennui," she said, eyes widened a little in surprise. "Of all the places to see him! What in the world is he doing here?"

"Aren't you a fan of his?"

Eiji perked up and eavesdropped on their conversation. So the girl used to be a fan of his? What did she have to say about him? At such a low point in his life, he needed all the kind words he could get. He couldn't count on her boyfriend for moral support, but perhaps he could with her.

"Yeah, that was a long time ago, though," replied Shiki. "I am so over him."

Eiji's heart sank to his sneakers. Yes, sneakers. He no longer wore the fashionable boots that were part and parcel of his outfit when he was famous. It was just too weird wearing cowboy boots with a fast-food restaurant outfit; they just didn't match. He had to sell them on eBay anyway, to accumulate enough cash to survive; so desperate was he for money. A month had passed since he advertised their availability but nobody wanted them. He had lowered the price a little, and two months went by without a buyer. Finally, after a major discount, someone had eventually bought it. The final price was a mere 1200 yen.

For those of you who are not familiar with Japanese currency, 1200 yen roughly translates to about twelve dollars. Your shoes would cost much more than that.

That 1200 yen disappeared in two days because he spent it on shio ramen for breakfast. Left with only 40 yen by the time the second morning was over, he had then tripped on the sidewalk and his money had rolled out of his reach, perching precariously on the edge of a drainage cover. As he was about to pick it up, someone accidentally bumped into him from behind. His fingers accidentally pushed the coins and they fell straight to their demise into the drain.

The Prince had become The Pauper instead.

But I digress.

His spirit now crushed to a spicy tuna roll flavoured pulp, he continued to listen to what the girl had to say next.

"I remember you had a lot of his albums," said Neku, sipping on his soft drink. "Do you still keep them?"

"Why?" asked Shiki. "Do you need them?"

"Hell no," said Neku, making a face, "they're the last thing I would ever want."

"Well, I'm still keeping them," said Shiki. The Prince felt his heart grow tiny wings and flutter. His fans still loved him! Even though he was no longer the artiste of her dreams, at least she still kept his greatest work! He listened eagerly to what the girl had to say next.

"You're still holding onto that? No offence, but why?"

"Because ever since I offered to sell them on eBay, no one has come to buy them from me."

Eiji could have turned to stone and crumbled to pieces.

"I suppose I could throw them away," Shiki continued, "They had been gathering so much dust, after all. But that would be a waste, wouldn't it? I might as well make a little money out of it. But, whatever, The Prince isn't important anymore. Let's talk about what you've been up to, Neku."

So many gashes had opened up in his heart since the very day Eiji recognized his downfall. Today would add a couple more. Even his fans had all but abandoned him. For an artiste, or rather someone who used to be an artiste, this was the worst thing to ever happen.

Just then, his boss snapped into his ear, "Daydream again and I'll cut your salary by half. We've got customers so serve them."

"Y-Yes sir!" Eiji hurriedly put on his mask of friendliness and continued with his job. But however much he wanted to brush the harshness of his life behind him, he couldn't.

XOXOXOXOXO

It had been a grueling morning for Eiji. Hunger made the whole work experience more than a little excruciating. Quite a few times he had considered popping two or three French fries into his mouth when no one was looking so he would feel less famished. But, out of fear that he would be caught and cooked into burgers by his boss, he didn't. His stomach had been growling angrily at being ignored, but he couldn't exactly do anything.

As soon as lunch break arrived and he managed to cull a meager paycheck from his evil-eyed manager, he walked over to Ramen Don for much-needed lunch. Actually, to say that he walked was wrong. It was more like he sprinted. Or, to be more precise, he vanished into thin air and his body materialized inside Ramen Don. The need to satisfy his hunger was _that_ urgent.

Despite this amazing display of wormhole physics, however, Ken Doi was not impressed. The last thing he wanted was for Eiji Oji, his old friend, to appear in front of him. Because he knew that no sooner did he settle down for shio ramen would he ask the age-old infernal question.

For Ken, it was way worse than the following nightmare scenarios:

1. When your in-laws ask you incessantly, "So when are you having kids?"  
2. When the kids at the back of the car ask, "Are we there yet?"  
3. When a long-winded insurance agent manages to force his way into your house and starts rattling off about how good his insurance policies are etc etc, and  
4. When a certain pesky neighbourhood moron with a skull beanie drops in once or twice a day, asking, "When you gonna have curry ramen, yo? I'm diggin' it."

_Don't ask that question, Eiji_, thought Ken Doi as he watched the ex-Prince slurp greedily on his noodles with lip-smacking gratitude. His fingers were crossed and hidden behind his back. And in the confines of his shoes, even his toes were crossed.

The question in… uh, question was the mother of all abominable enquiries. It was…

"Hey Ken," said Eiji, trying to sound as good-natured as possible. "I know this will sound bad, but… could I borrow some money?"

The ramen stall owner could have clawed his face out and yelled "NOOOOO!" but he had customers in his shop. It just wasn't done scaring them away while they were peacefully chowing down on noodles. No, he had to calm himself down. Regardless of the fact that Eiji asked this for the seventh time in a fortnight, he knew he could do better than blowing his top in front of everyone.

"Eiji, I'm in as much need for money as you are," he said, arms folded defensively. "My business isn't going all that smoothly these days so I can't spare another yen, I'm afraid."

"But Ken… aren't friends supposed to help each other?" smiled Eiji, trying to turn on the charm, which had practically no effect on cold, hardened, stingy Ken Doi.

"Yes, but I have to help myself first!"

"All I need is about 5000 yen, Ken," pleaded Eiji, "and then I'll give it back to you by… uh… well, I'll give it back eventually!"

Ken Doi shook his head in exasperation. "You don't even have the slightest idea of when to return my money. How can I bring myself to lend you anything?"

"Ah! How about I give you my priceless album to sweeten the deal! It's all yours, free, if you lend me 5000 yen. How about it?"

"I'm no fan of J-Pop. I prefer classical Japanese opera."

"H-Hey, my opera voice ain't too bad either! I can sing any number of songs you want at no extra charge. Just spare me 5000 yen, and…"

"You haven't even returned the 16,000 yen that I lent you over the past two months!" said Ken Doi, his voice raised slightly to hint at his irritation. Eiji gulped. It was true. He had not been able to pay back the money that he borrowed from him. He could sense that Ken was growing increasingly annoyed at his persistence, but he was the only hope he had if he was to survive in this harsh, cruel world ruled by dollars, cents… and of course, yen.

In a last-ditch effort, Eiji put on the saddest puppy eyes look he could manage and gazed directly into Ken's eyes pleadingly.

"Pleeeeease?" he whined. "I'll be good." His eyes were sparkling with boyish innocence. No girl could resist this kind of pity-inducing face, and while it wasn't normally aimed for use against men, he just knew it would work.

However, his plan backfired. Ken simply remained unmoved, obstinate to the bone. In fact, he was substantially riled up now.

"You look like an idiot grinning like that," he chided, with a sharp tone he preferred not to use. Rubbing his forehead in an obvious display of annoyance, he continued, "Seriously, you can't go round begging your friends for money."

"But I'm not begging," protested Eiji, close to finishing his bowl of ramen. "It's just… I really need the extra cash. Otherwise I wouldn't be able to survive! I mean, instant noodles are pretty tasteless and all, and they're hardly filling…"

"Never thought I'd see the day when cup noodles would be a part of your staple diet," said Ken, busy trying to fathom a life where none of his three square meals in a day consisted of normal food. "Seriously, sometimes I wonder how you got into this mess."

Eiji could only stare into his noodles shamefully, knowing fully well that it was his own fault that he had thrown himself into the quagmire of poverty.

"You know, you gotta learn how to control your cash," said Ken, and at this Eiji knew he was in for a long lecture on money management, wise spending habits and curbing the lust for unimportant wants. But he had heard it many times by now, and this particular litany was no different than any of the previous ones and certainly not any more interesting. So he pretended to listen. Most of what Ken said flew in one ear and got spat out the other. He managed to pick up all-too recognizable words and phrases like "economic crisis", "saving", and "the importance of planning out your future" but without exception, not one word stuck in his head.

_Whatever, man, just gimme the money already!_ thought a vexed Eiji, watching Ken's mouth open and close akin to that of a goldfish. He was starting to space out, and for a few frightening moments, Ken's face became golden, sprouted fins from his cheeks, and a fin grew from atop his head.

"Hey, are you listening to me?" snapped Ken, to which Eiji almost jumped in shock at the imaginary yet seemingly real sight of a human-sized, bespectacled goldfish talking back at him.

"I heard every word," lied Eiji hurriedly, the image of goldfish-Ken dissolving before his eyes, much to his relief. "I've been trying to live within my means! Though frankly, it's not that hard when you have little money."

"Hmm, good to know that at long last you're taking things seriously," praised Ken, his face straight and unsmiling.

Eiji decided to try one last trick in the book. Through experience, he had gathered as many as 57 tricks up his sleeve, all involving some form of deception, harmless trickery or undeniable charm. Most of the people he manipulated fell victim by the time he used his second or third strategy, but Ken was the first one to foil his 56th one (the stupid puppy eyes expression). If his last one wouldn't work, nothing would.

"Tell me, Ken," said Eiji carefully. "If I cut back on my expenses, will I have enough to buy food for every week?"

"Yeah."

"Then would I need to give up on certain hobbies like Tin Pin and stuff?"

"Yes, I'm afraid so."

"Can't help that Tin Pin does run into some money, huh."

"Uh-huh."

"Is it possible, then, to achieve happiness even in relative poverty?"

"Sure, why not."

"Great! Then can you lend me 5000 yen?"

"No."

The Prince sank into his stool and almost melted into a gooey, viscous mass after seeing how his plan to get Ken to blindly say yes to his last request failed miserably. The ramen stall owner was sharper than he thought… He may be an old geezer by now, but his mind was far from dull.

Well, that was it. The final ace had been dealt, but it was exposed, shredded to pieces, burnt to ashes and in short completely destroyed. It was a most pathetic defeat for Eiji. Deprived of any smart ideas, he could only slurp up the remainder of his meal in sadness before paying (always a painful thing to do) and trudging out the door with the enthusiasm of a rotting zombie. With his money matters unresolved, he became the slowest, dullest creature on the planet since the two-toed sloth.

Work was to resume in half an hour's time. With nothing to do he decided to wander around town to clear his head. It had been crammed to the brim with thoughts about money, or rather the lack of it, and he was sick of it. As he strolled through Scramble Crossing, his presence went unnoticed. When he was The Prince, simply walking down the streets was enough to "trigger a revolution", as he had once put in his own words. He was so popular, such hot property, that no one could deny his opinions. Everything he said became fashion gospel, a sort of oral bible for young Shibuyans to follow so they too could be cool, like him.

But he wasn't The Prince anymore. So did anyone care about him? Certainly not. No one so much as took a second glance at him. He thought he caught sight of some teenage girls making eye contact with him, but when he looked to be sure, they were usually looking at something or someone behind him. Addicted to attention, he craved the fanatical love that his fans once poured onto him. Now, without his usual high, he was getting serious cold turkey.

With the fog of despair clouding his head, he was too preoccupied to look where he was going, and subsequently bumped into a teenage girl from behind, squashing right into her butt. He lost balance and risked toppling over her, so he instinctively grabbed her shoulders to steady himself.

"Wha?" the girl cried out in surprise, almost crumpling under Eiji's weight.

Now, we all know he was just trying to save himself from falling. But to anyone else, especially the girl, it looked like he was trying to molest her.

"Hey!" She shook free from his grasp, and glared at him with death in her eyes while adjusting her brown cap which had gone askew. "What do you think you're doing?"

Eiji scrambled for an apology. "Sorry, sorry! It's my fault. I was careless and – "

He was interrupted when she slapped him across the face. She was so startlingly and mysteriously powerful that Eiji almost did a pirouette, ballerina-style. He couldn't manage the whole 360 degrees though; he spun and crashed right into a large dustbin. All of its stink-laden contents spilled out and formed a disgusting mattress which cushioned his fall but lent him an incredibly disagreeable stench.

He lay amongst the food wrappers, crumpled paper and banana peels, like some kind of Garbage King. There even happened to be a burger container sitting atop his head like a crown, making him seem even more like the royalty of rubbish… not exactly a fitting image for someone who used to be The Prince (though Sho would be proud). All the nearby bystanders were staring at him, some gaping in shock, others snickering unkindly.

"Pervert!" yelled the girl, before stomping off in a huff, blowing her ruffled pink tresses away from her face. "Ugh," she could be heard muttering, "I think I broke a nail. And I just had a manicure too. Curses!"

Eiji picked himself off the pavement and peeled the trash off of himself as best as he could, but the smell was beyond his control. _Oh cripes, if I return to work smelling like this, the boss will blast me into outer space_. He had barely twenty minutes to dash back home for a bath. _I gotta hurry!_

As if on cue, a car sped past like a laser beam and charged through a puddle of water on the road, spraying him down to the bone. Well, the bath part was taken care of now… more or less…

Everyone laughed harder at his mishap.

_Tch! Dammit!_ he thought, cheeks flushed at the unwanted attention he was getting. _I really have to get back home now; I'm a complete mess!_ He started sprinting down the sidewalk, leaving a trail of water in his wake. To make matters even worse, a policeman spotted him and blew his whistle at him.

"Hey you! Stop!" shouted the police officer, stabbing a pointing finger in Eiji's direction. "I saw you! You tipped that dustbin over, but you didn't even bother to clean up! That's littering!"

"Argh! Leave me alone, please!" Eiji pleaded, tearing down the streets at full speed with the policeman hot on his heels. "I can't afford to pay the fine!" If he lost anymore money he would be looking at an entire month without breakfast, something he didn't want to experience.

Unfortunately for him, the gods and forces of the universe and whatever decided that today would not be his luckiest day. So by an additional stroke of misfortune, he had to trip on nothing in particular and fall headlong on the cement ground. Needless to say this allowed the pursuing officer to easily catch up and slap him with a hefty fine. One look at the offending piece of paper and Eiji's eyes sprung out of their sockets.

"20,000 yen?" he shrieked, hair standing on end so ridiculously that his head looked like a sunflower. "I have to pay a fine of 20,000 yen?"

That's about two hundred dollars if you must know.

"That'll teach you to leave rubbish all over the place for no good reason," said the policeman sternly. "Now come on and undo what you just did. Pick up that trash!"

He got slapped in the face, turned a dustbin inside-out, was splashed with water, and now he had a fine to pay and community work to do. Talk about a quintuple whammy. Murphy's Law could work in the worst ways possible, but you have to admit, multiple disasters in the same day – no, in the space of a few minutes – don't come by often. It's pretty intriguing, really.

XOXOXOXOXO

Cleaning up the litter-ridden pavement took longer than expected. By the time he got back home, had a quick shower, changed into fresh clean clothes, and returned to the restaurant, he was thirty minutes late. Not a very nice way to greet your boss. Especially when he was hot-tempered and did not take kindly to poor work ethics.

"You're late, Eiji Oji!" grumbled his boss. "How do you have the cheek to come half an hour late?"

Eiji froze and his throat dried up like a desert. Things weren't looking good. He was already on bad terms with his boss, no thanks to a lot of fumbling on Eiji's part ever since he started this job. But now it looked like he was headed for something worse than a scolding.

And he was right.

"Your behaviour as of late has been most aggravating," said the manager, arms folded, "Using the wrong ingredients for the wrong food, forgetting orders, and now blatant tardiness. I hate to say this but you're getting worse as you go." He cleared his throat to prepare for the final blow. "I'm afraid I'm going to ask you to turn in your uniform."

"Wait!" yelped Eiji, frightened that he would lose his only source of income. "I can explain! It was all because of an accident. You see, I – "

"No excuses," was the firm reply. "What, are you going to attribute your tardiness to being kidnapped by flying saucers now? Besides, I've already let you off for a good number of 'accidents', 'mishaps' and various other 'unforeseen circumstances'. You've already had your chances, but still you didn't improve yourself."

Well, part of what he said was true. Eiji could sing and dance all day without shattering his voice, but being in the entertainment business for so long, he had forgotten how to do simple things that a lot of people can perform… like working. We can't ignore that singing was considered work on his part when he was still an artiste, but _this_ was a different kind of work, one that pop stars left to their underlings.

_Not good. The boss is mad. Gotta use trick number 36!_

"Boss, please keep me in the company…" Eiji attempted to negotiate. "If you do, I'll gladly do any kind of work you want me to do!"

The manager seemed to ponder the possibilities of this offer, and appeared pretty intrigued by it, from the way he was rubbing his chin and staring off into the distance. Eiji waited with bated breath for his answer, but at the same time, he was dreading it. Exactly what kind of work would he have in mind? Scrubbing the toilets? Cleaning the cooking equipment? Polishing his shoes? Goodness, that was even worse than the menial but relatively easier jobs he had been doing!

However, much to his relief – followed by disappointment – his boss shook his head and said, "As much as I want you to feed my twelve dogs and walk them everyday, Eiji, I can't let you remain. Sorry."

So he was still adamant about firing the poor ex-singer. Eiji didn't have to deal with twelve overactive dogs and their stern, overbearing master, so thank goodness for silver linings. But it felt like he dodged a bullet only to be hit by a much bigger rocket. And that rocket had "unemployment" written all over it.

"Clean out your desk by 5 pm this evening… no, 3 pm," said the manager. "No, on second thought, now. Please. Your presence is polluting the sunshine here."

"Um, sir, I don't have a desk…"

"I know. It just sounded appropriate to say to someone I'm firing."

Eiji didn't know whether to laugh or cry at that. It was most awkward.

And so, after handing back his uniform, Eiji Oji, aka the ex-Prince, left the Sunshine Fast Food restaurant for the last time. He had lost his job and could not return again.

"Oh well," he sighed, as he walked back home, "that job wasn't exactly right for a guy like me anyway."

Then his tummy started rumbling.

"Ugh," he groaned, "Seriously, I wish my stomach would stop acting up at the worst of times!" Remembering that he still kept the remainder of his last paycheck for the day, he took a much-dreaded peek in his wallet, and as he had come to expect, he was 10 yen short of a 580 yen shio ramen meal. Again.

He screamed at the heavens.

"DAMMIT…!"


	2. Chapter 2

**Whatever (Part 2)  
**by BrDPirateMan

Back in his apartment, Eiji felt so gloomy that he just wanted to sleep the rest of the day away. Doing so would also help him to forget about his hunger, he hoped. But no, it wasn't meant to be. His need to eat was too impossible to ignore. Catching forty winks was undoable. His stomach, churning out earthquake-like tremors, kept reminding him to get fed.

But he had not even a single crumb in his room. So he tightened his waist with a series of belts and drank gallons of water to feel full. Or at least create the illusion that he was full.

"If only I had _some_ money…" he sobbed, staggering out of the communal bathroom as a walking reservoir.

Just then he bumped into his landlady, whom he didn't like. The feeling was mutual.

"Eiji, you piece of trash!" Mrs Kitamura bellowed, "You better make sure you've got the rent by tomorrow or I'll – "

She paused when she saw all the belts wrapped around his stomach. She immediately thought that he had this whole time been harbouring a secret fetish for erotic bondage. Dumbstruck and with a pale face, all she could say was:

"Eiji, I know you're a healthy young man, but I would appreciate it if you leave your SM fantasies in the bedroom where they rightfully belong."

He spluttered useless incomplete denials that went along the lines of "No, wait, this… I… It's not…" But his landlady would have none of it. She hurried away and disappeared round the corner of the corridor, trying to drive the harrowing sight out of her mind. At last he gave up, heaving a sigh of annoyance mixed with embarrassment.

Suddenly she popped her head from behind the wall and added, "And don't you dare try your mind tricks on me! I'm immune to the charms of enterprising men like you, and in any case, I have eyes only for my husband!" Then she blinked out of sight once more.

Eiji cupped his mouth, trying to fend off an impending bout of vomiting, brought about no thanks to the truly horrific mental image of seducing the ugly, middle-aged landlady. No way in hell would he even think of doing that! Still, the level of disgust associated with that image was so overpowering – like, over 9000 or whatever – that he knew he wouldn't be able to stop the bile from spilling. He dashed back into the bathroom and proceeded to empty the contents of his stomach into the nearest sink. It was more water than anything else, though.

"I may never recover from this…" he gasped, precisely two seconds before he threw up again.

With all of the water gone from his system, he was back to square one. He gulped down from the tap, starting all over again and cursing in his thoughts. "Why must every day of mine be an unlucky day?"

He knew he wouldn't be able to go on like this much further, now that he had no job, nor food (though he had plenty of water). He had to make a living somehow.

Eiji already had some ideas simmering around in his head. Whether they would work well, if at all, was another matter. But hey, whatever. You don't know till you try, right?

XOXOXOXOXO

"Don't know if this will work, but it's worth a shot."

Eiji was sitting on the floor looking at all his belongings that he had gathered. If he was going to have a garage sale he was going to do it right.

Picking up something at random, he stared at it, thinking hard about whether he was willing to part with it or not. After a few minutes, convinced that he was okay without a half-finished bottle of his finest cologne, he left his signature on it with a marker pen.

"Hmm, I've had this cologne for about two years now," he muttered to himself. "The smell is pretty good. And I, The Prince, used to have it. I may not be a big star anymore, but I don't think anyone would want to pass up the chance to buy Prince memorabilia. I mean, come on, I _did_ used to be famous." And with that, he placed the signed cologne in a cardboard box and moved onto the next item.

That was his plan. He would adorn a bunch of his things with his signature, then try to sell it in the hopes of making a quick buck. He was banking on whatever star appeal he had left to pull in the customers. Not that he had any left, but like I said earlier, you don't know till you try.

But you know, now that he was as poor as a church mouse, he no longer had many of the things that enriched his life when he was a singer. So in the end, his horde of "limited-edition" wares included a pocket calculator, a pencil sharpener, various stationery and his collection of old music CDs. Not a very interesting batch, eh? Even his beloved alarm clock was in that box. The clock had been a loyal friend of his, waking him up in time for work… most of the time. But he had no job now, so what use had he for it? He might as well sell it. To be honest he was reluctant to let go of it. It was the only thing he had to tell the time, but he needed cash.

He double-checked to make sure that everything had his signature on it. "Fabulous!" he said to himself, "No one can resist this! It's like selling autographs… They'll snap it up for sure!"

Then he paused.

"Aren't autographs supposed to be free?"

XOXOXOXOXO

Eiji set up shop in a relatively unpopulated area of Spain Hill. He turned his cardboard box upside-down on the ground and used it as a table to place his goods on.

"Come get some hot stuff!" he yelled, "Exclusive items for sale! Property of The Prince up for grabs! Get 'em while you can!"

People turned to take a glance, but they carried on walking past him without so much of a speck of interest. When it was the same story half an hour later, he began to grow worried.

"Has everyone truly forgotten who The Prince is?" he wondered to himself sadly, fiddling with the dial of his alarm clock. "At this rate my total profits at the end of the day will be zero."

A mother and her child happened to be nearby, walking along, perhaps to Molco. Eiji immediately broke from his state of self-pity and became energetic once more. "Hey there!" he called to them, "Want to buy some goodies? They were previously owned by The Prince! They're cool, affordable and of great value! Don't miss this chance to get your mitts on some really awesome stuff!"

The child, a little boy around five years old, huddled behind his mother. "Mummy, this man is scary," he shuddered, looking quite frightened by Eiji's outlandish behaviour. The mother grew cross and wrapped her arms around her son protectively, shooting a scowl at our gallant but mishap-ridden hero as she scolded him, "Stop that! How dare you scare my son like this! Don't you have any shame?"

"I-I'm awfully sorry!" spluttered Eiji, bowing to her profusely. "Um, ma'am, I know this will sound bad, but… if it doesn't bother you, would you like to take a look at my goods? Everything's high-quality!"

All the mother did was glare at him before slinking away with her son into the crowd. "I seriously need to work on my sales patter," he said under his breath. Well, what do you expect when you spring out at people jack-in-the-box style with an enthusiastic but crazy look on your face? A professional hawker wouldn't scare his customers away. Just look at Ken Doi; would he do that? Oh wait, he's not a hawker. So, um, whatever. You get the picture.

Just then, he spotted a man in a black sleeveless shirt, with his head cocked to one side, eyeing the goods on display curiously. His brown hair was tied up in a short ponytail behind his head, and he had the look of someone who had been through thick and thin despite being so young. A look that said, "Leave me alone, my boss is annoying the heck out of me. So stay away from my person or you'll burn."

"Hello good sir!" piped up Eiji as the man approached him, his face devoid of any expressions. "What can I do for you? Rare finds, great prices!"

The man wordlessly scanned the entire line of signed items. He took an eternity deciding what to buy. And what an eternity it was… Eiji's cheeks were getting numb from smiling for so long. Well, he _had_ to have a smile ready for his customers, right? The lanyard hanging around the man's neck was swaying to and fro slowly. His name was neatly written on it. _Futoshi?_

"Yo," said the man, otherwise known as Futoshi, "How much is this one?" He held up a CD with a picture of an old band, Twisting Apples, on the cover.

"Ah! Good choice, sir! It's 2000 yen. Lots of wonderful songs inside that one."

Despite the overflowing enthusiasm, however, Futoshi was not impressed. "Are you kidding? 2000 yen? For this piece of junk it's way too expensive. Can't you lower the price a bit?"

_So this guy wants a bargain, huh?_ Eiji wasn't particularly keen on slashing his prices if he could help it. But customers were hard to come by, so if he could just hold on to this guy for long enough, he could be sure of some cash rolling in.

"Well, how about 1900 yen?" he said politely, "Twisting Apples was a great band, so I'm afraid I can't sell their album too cheaply, though this current price is already low enough as is!"

Futoshi rubbed the back of his neck and frowned. "No, man, 1900 yen is still too high. I love Twisting Apples myself, but your CD ain't exactly mint condition, so the price needs to go lower."

_Oh no, I have to be careful. I have to strike a balance. Don't wanna lose him. But I don't want to make a barely-there profit either!_

And so Eiji said, "I can offer it to you for 1800 yen. How about it?"

His customer just frowned even more, his brows mired in a mess of wrinkles. "Dude, that's still too high, you know. If you do the math you'll know what I'm talking about."

_Um, no, I don't._

"1800 yen is steep, man," continued Futoshi. "Gimme a 90% discount on the thing and we're talking."

Eiji could have fainted from the shock. 90%! Who in the world offers a discount of 90%! This guy was beyond unreasonable. No, he had just crossed the border of unreasonable and stepped into the realm of "shopkeeper's nightmare"! "Sir, if I may say something, it's got, um, my signature on it. It's got…value. So I can't sell it for just 200 yen…"

"Your signature? So what?" snorted Futoshi, growing impatient, "You're not The Prince now. Your signature doesn't mean squat."

That struck a raw nerve. It triggered his old fiery personality, locked away and hidden deep within his psyche, and before he knew it, he was arguing with his first customer. "WHAT? How dare you say that! I was a star! You take that back right now, 'cause I used to be big on stage!" He didn't care that some passersby were looking his way, wondering what had just happened. He was The Prince! No one could defy him! Who was this man to look down on pop royalty? Was he looking to have his head chopped off, seasoned with salt and pepper and marinated overnight, and handed back to him on a silver platter?

But Futoshi wasn't the least perturbed. "Uh-huh. 'Used' being the operative word."

And whatever anger and confidence Eiji had was rapidly condensed into a single subatomic particle. Unable to think of a good counter-argument, he backed down with his tail between his legs and let his opponent win. Time was running out for his stomach and he knew that if he couldn't get any food soon, he'd probably kick the bucket from starvation. He didn't have anymore belts left with which to wrap his tummy up, so his situation was oh-so-grim.

He calmed down and stopped to think rationally. With 570 yen left in his wallet, all he needed was at least 10 more yen before he could indulge himself in yet another shio ramen meal. And if it meant selling his Twisting Apples album at 200 yen, then so be it. Returning to his meek ways, he said in a defeated tone, "Very well, sir… I'll gladly sell it to you for a mere 200 yen…"

However, Futoshi said, "You know what, dude? Forget it. I've changed my mind. It's not a deal."

Eiji thought he felt his jaw detach itself and drop with a clang. But it was still intact. What dropped to the ground was his alarm clock. In any case, his customer was leaving! He couldn't let this happen!

"Sir, if you buy this album for 200 yen," he said desperately, snatching up one of the items from the box, "I'll give you this for free! How about it? Two things for the price of one!"

"No thanks," Futoshi smirked, "Do you really think I'd want a pocket calculator?" He left, going in the general direction of Molco.

"Urgh… why?" Eiji was more than a little frustrated by now. Why must money continue to be a troubling issue to him? What could a guy do to get a little moolah?

Grumbling to himself, he stooped down from his seat to pick up his alarm clock. As he was doing so, he happened to look up, and a flash of white appeared before his eyes. Upon realization that he was in fact gazing up a girl's skirt, he panicked, lost balance and fell to the ground onto his back. Unfortunately this earned him a much clearer view of the girl's underwear… so dazzlingly clear he could see the seams in it, and even the subtle pattern (it was Hello Kitty).

"KYAAAH!" screamed the girl, hurriedly smoothing down her mini-skirt. "What are you – Wait. It's YOU!"

The moment Eiji saw her long pink hair, he recognized her. She was the one whom he had accidentally bumped into earlier in the day, and had slapped him and ultimately caused him to receive a 20,000 yen littering fine. In the blink of an eye he was back on his feet and begging not to be killed.

"Wait! It's just an accident! I didn't mean to see it!"

It didn't work. If her boiling red cheeks, bulging vein at the temple, and clenched fists didn't already tell him to get the heck away to safety… then he was dumb. And maybe dead.

He was both.

"YOU _(censored)_ PERVERT!" the angry girl screamed, swinging her boot in between his legs for a painful nutcracker. As he doubled over in pain, eyes bulged out comically like a cartoon character, she followed up with a thunderous uppercut to the face. His entire body curved backwards and his head slammed into the wall behind him.

Eiji lay on the ground a shivering wreck, scrunched up in a fetal position as he tried to lessen the pain in his head and crotch. Meanwhile the girl, growling an enraged "Rrrgh!", walked away from the scene, only to bump into her friend.

"Hey Eri, what happened?" asked the friend, concerned. "You look upset."

"You bet I'm upset, Shiki," the girl said, steam puffing out of her head, "That idiot over there, that… that… pervert, was looking up my skirt just now!"

"Where is he?" Shiki squinted in the direction that Eri was pointing in. "What, him? That's The Prince, isn't he?" She couldn't take her eyes off the pathetic figure on the ground. "And he saw your – "

"This makes me so mad!" snarled Eri, "I'd have killed him if I had the chance!"

"Now, now, Eri," said the bespectacled girl, hooking her arm around Eri's and leading her away from Spain Hill. "I can see you beat him up pretty well, so he got what was coming to him. Now that that's over and done with, let's go shopping!" She gave the seething Eri a smile, which seemed to help her calm down.

"Yeah," sighed Eri, peeling a frond of strawberry hair from her face, which had become sweaty from her exertions.

"Funny," muttered Shiki, "I could have sworn I saw him working at Sunshine Fast Food this morning. What's he doing here now?"

"How should I know."

_Oh great_, thought Eiji, aware of the passersby staring at him. _This is a good start for my business._

Over the course of the afternoon, his stall was visited by only a handful of customers. He got no business from them. If Futoshi was horrible, then they were worse. In fact, each new customer was progressively more irrational than the last. Listed below are some notable examples:

1. Said a middle-aged man, "They look so old, can't you hand them out for free?"  
2. An old lady chided Eiji, "Why don't you do some actual work?"  
3. Having surveyed his entire collection, this one kid exclaimed incredulously, "What, no Nintendo?"  
4. A suspicious-looking guy whispered, "Hey bro, I'm outta cash. Think I could owe you? I'll pay you back later… heh heh heh…"  
5. A schoolgirl, having inspected his alarm clock carefully, had this to say, "Are you stupid? Your clock's broken and you're still selling it."  
6. "This signature is ugly," said another schoolgirl, her face twisted in disgust.  
7. Some down-on-his-luck beggar approached him and said, "Do you have any spare change?"

_What in blazes is wrong with all these people?_ thought Eiji, _Just how many people in Japan are this warped?_

No one who visited his makeshift stall felt that his goods were likeable enough to warrant a purchase. So no one bought anything, and Eiji's pockets remained empty. Having sat there for two straight hours with no profits coming in, he heaved a disappointed sigh and packed everything up. On the bright side, he managed to retain all of his stuff. Especially his precious alarm clock. Which one of the customers proclaimed was broken.

It was kind of a bummer that everything had his ugly garish signature on it, but he could always clean it off, and they'd be good as new (old?), right?

Then he remembered that the marker pen that he used was permanent.

XOXOXOXOXO

Still, it wasn't like Eiji to just give up. Especially when he had urgent matters like his hunger to resolve fast. Thus commenced Plan B.

Inside the Station Underpass was a good number of people waiting for the next train to arrive: businessmen with suitcases, mothers on their weekly shopping sprees, schoolgirls chattering incessantly about the latest scoop on music entertainment, and other non-descript characters. The Underpass was a dark, dank place with poor lighting and ugly graffiti scrawled everywhere, but it didn't feel all that stifling to be inside, as the citizens in fashionable Shibuya knew how to dress up in weird and colourful ways, lightening the atmosphere.

Eiji found a spot that he could use.

_Perfect_, he thought, wincing as his belt-tightened stomach, kept hidden underneath his shirt, growled for the umpteenth time today. _It's not the greatest thing to do, but I should be able to get a little money._ He laid an old hat on the ground at his feet.

He took a deep breath, strained from the pressure of the belts, opened his mouth…

…and started to sing. Right in the presence of the crowd.

People turned to look in wonder at this weird but handsome stranger as he belted out a slow, romantic song – naturally one of his own – and poured his heart and soul into it, giving it his all. A lack of energy from having no food for a long time had severely weakened his ability to sing, but he could manage.

"_Sometimes the wind is still,  
__But I know that when you're near,  
__All is well and I feel a thrill  
__Just to see you, dear…_"

Yeah, I know the lyrics could be better, but apparently the songwriters who used to be employed by him had a very weird way of writing. For them, if you can make the lyrics rhyme, then who cares if they make no sense? And if you had great charisma like he did in the past, all you needed to do was wink at the audience or take off your shirt and expose your muscular chest and the fangirls would go wild all the same.

Oh, and if you're wondering, the title of this particular song was "Lament of Iridescent Obfuscation". Go figure if you have the time. If you don't, then… fine. Like, whatever.

His eyes were closed for a few minutes while he was singing. The ideal image he had visualized in his head was that right now, everyone in the train station would be so moved by his melodious voice that they liberally tossed money into his hat. And it amounted to over 10,000 yen! What a dream, right?

Eager to see how he was faring, he snapped his eyes open… and the hat at his feet lay bare.

_What!_ He was doing so well too! How did this happen?

As for the people who were awaiting the train, many of them just ignored him, while others simply stared at him and pointed and giggled at him. Some were cringing and keeping their distance from who they thought was a madman. And one person even looked like he was calling the police on his cell phone.

Maybe singing out of the blue wouldn't do much to get him some cash. If he at least looked the part of some guitar-wielding busker – never mind if he couldn't play a single note – he might have more luck. The fact that he had stopped singing out of shock and went all bug-eyed like some retarded fool made him seem even crazier than he could help it.

A couple of young boys, no more than eight years of age, were staring at him like some previously undiscovered animal specimen. What they were looking at was the elusive _Princeus bizarraeli patheticus_.

"Hey, bro!" said one of them, nudging the other in the elbow with a gloved hand. "Doesn't that guy look familiar?"

"Familiar?" said the second kid. He was sporting a red bandanna and a wild angular hairstyle in the vein of the angsty, broody teenage protagonist out to save the world in many role-playing video games… Give this kid a keyblade and we're good to go, right? …Okay, fine, I'll stop.

So anyway, the second kid continued, "What do you mean, Yammer? I don't know him from anywhere. He's just some oddball singing in a train station."

Eiji felt a tinge of annoyance upon hearing that. _Oddball? Hey!_

"Bro, seriously? You don't recognize him, Shooter?" said Yammer. "He's The Prince! He is… well, he used to be one of Japan's greatest stars. He's famous, you know! But then something happened to him. I didn't think he became like this though!"

"No kidding," said Shooter, "Who's The Prince? Is he from the Mauritius Islands?"

A _crack_ could be heard as Eiji slammed his head against the nearby wall, leaving a sizable dent.

When the train arrived, both boys grew excited and whooped something about "the greatest Tin Pin finals ever, like WHAM, bro…!" Everyone piled into the train, helped along by courteous white-gloved staff. And soon the train was gone, leaving Eiji alone and deserted in the Station Underpass, with no one to sing to and no one to spare him some change. He crumpled to his knees and trembled in frustration.

"Why does this kind of thing happen to me?" he wailed. More people had arrived in the station, but he had no heart to carry on with Plan B. It was a failure, an irredeemably stupid disaster of epic proportions no thanks to him. Why was it his fault? Because he wasn't hot stuff anymore, he was used stuff. In the bargain bin of life, he was the one ugly piece of clothing at the bottom of the pile that no one wanted or cared about. He was like an anorak, weird and out of place in society. Oh, and he was a purple anorak. Purple. He could have been grey or maroon or dark blue, but no, he had to be purple.

Well, at least he wasn't pink.

He noticed a group of people forming some distance away on the platform. It didn't look like they were waiting for the train, seeing as how the last one just left and the next one wouldn't arrive in an hour. No, it looked more like they were gathering to look at something. Curiosity got the better of him and he joined them.

Standing before him was a teenage boy and a younger girl. They had a similar dress sense, wearing beanies and going with the skull-and-crossbones motif. He couldn't tell if they were friends or siblings. The guy had his skateboard propped up against the wall and he spoke, addressing his audience.

"Hey, aight, this is awesome, yo. Full house as usual."

The girl, who was clad in an oversized sweater with her arms concealed in her sleeves, chirped, "More like full train station, if you're a nitpicker, but you know what we mean."

The crowd laughed. The tension was electric. It was like they were waiting for a good time and were eager to see what was in store for them.

"Good afternoon folks," continued the girl, "You guys alright?"

Some people whooped an affirmative answer. "Yeah!"

"Some a' you may know us already, but some of you probably don't…" said the boy with a deadpan expression, "and that's not my problem." Everyone laughed again.

"Oh, c'mon, Beat," said the girl, slugging him in the arm in jest, "Don't tell me you forgot rule number one already."

"What'd that be, Rhyme? 'Try not to get caught by the police when you're holding a stand-up comedy act in a train station?'" More laughter.

"Isn't it obvious? It's the most important rule of us stand-up comedians! 'Where possible, leave the audience in the dark about your name.'" The irony of that last statement, considering that they had already addressed each other, was funny enough to make the audience fall in stitches.

_Stand-up comedians?_ Eiji thought, _Their humour needs a bit of work, but I'll give 'em credit for trying._ Even though he wasn't rich anymore, he still retained his refined personality, honed from years in showbiz. This included his sense of humour, which meant that the only times he could laugh was if a joke was extremely brilliantly crafted, or if some kid with poor fashion sense cavorted into view, at which point he would cruelly call them a spicy tuna roll or whatever. He really prided himself with being top-class in his tastes.

Too bad his tastes didn't match his current lifestyle.

Beat and Rhyme possessed a great dynamic and were great together. Their five-minute stand-up comedy act was well-received and the train station was filled with the chortling of people. To Eiji's astonishment, even some of the train station staff had come to watch, and they too were enjoying themselves. Afterward, when it was over, everyone threw coins into the cloth pouch that the young comedians had brought along. He gasped in awe as he watched the yen pile up. There must have been about 1000 yen in there! Granted, 1000 yen wasn't a lot of money, but for them, comedy was a hobby and if they could make a little money out of it, then why not?

Were these two kids _that_ popular? They must have established quite the reputation. Then he cringed. How could a couple of brats be more interesting than his outstanding vocal talent? How is it that no one cared about him at all?

In a brief moment of madness, he hallucinated and an image of a judge from a certain annual singing competition wavered before him. Said judge glared at him sternly for a while before giving him the thumbs-down. "I hate to be rude," he said with a thick English accent, "but it's a no."

Eiji shook his head and he was back in reality. How in the world did Simon Cowell come into the picture in the first place?

The crowd dissipated, leaving Beat and Rhyme to gather up the stray money that had fallen outside the pouch. The girl, Rhyme, was humming a cheery tune to herself and Beat was grinning as he made a quick mental calculation… which he had problems with since he apparently wasn't awesome at math. His brows were knitted in concentration and Rhyme eventually had to do the calculating for him.

"Looks like we made 1350 yen," she said.

"Sweet!" whooped Beat, not caring how much they really earned. As long as the amount sounded okay, that was great. "C'mon, yo. Let's go get ourselves some curry! I'm hungry!"

Eiji hung his head in dismay and started shambling away. _I'm never gonna make any money like this…_

However, he had not taken more than three steps before a policeman approached him. He nearly jumped out of his skin. It was the same policeman who had slapped the 20,000 yen littering fine on him earlier!

"You again!" cried the policeman, mouth agape. "You really don't know how to stay out of trouble, do you?"

"Wh-What did I do this time?"

"I got a call from a witness saying that you were disrupting the peace by singing at the top of your voice!"

"N-No! Wait! I was… busking! I was singing to make some money, honest!"

"After the crime you committed this afternoon," growled the policeman, whipping out his notebook and scribbling something on it, "I find it difficult to see you as doing normal things like everyone else! You just don't seem like a dependable guy."

"Are you saying what I did was illegal, and theirs was not?" Seething from the unfairness of the situation, he had raised his voice and pointed at Beat and Rhyme, who quickly saw him. "Those kids were holding a freaking stand-up comedy act! Why don't you arrest them too?"

"Yo man, wha's yo' problem?" Beat spat, his face dark as he approached Eiji. Rhyme was huddling behind him, trying her best to keep her brother from blowing up in anger.

As calm as the sea, the policeman simply turned to Beat and asked, "May I see your licence?"

"Licence?" Eiji repeated. When the skateboard boy whipped out a stiff plastic card, which contained a bunch of details that he didn't quite get, he shuddered. _Oh yeah,_ he thought, _I didn't get permission to sing in public…_ No one was allowed to do any form of business without a licence, something he didn't have.

"Excellent!" The policeman smiled. "You may go now." Giving Eiji one last dirty look, Beat walked away with Rhyme in tow.

Eiji gulped as he knew what the officer was going to ask him. "So, where is your licence?"

"Uh, um… I left it at home."

"Oh, a likely story!" scoffed the policeman, finishing off what he was writing in his notebook. "It's always, 'I forgot to bring it' or 'I lost it' or something like that. All lies." He tore off the note. Upon closer inspection it was a ticket!

"_Another _fine?" Eiji started to back away.

"For disrupting the peace and operating without a proper licence, you are to pay 50,000 yen and… Hey! Don't you dare run away!"

Once again, Eiji was chased by the man of justice, afraid of losing even more cash. But once again, he failed to evade capture and the policeman, positively angry, shoved the ticket into the poor guy's shirt pocket. Eiji was so frustrated with everything that he seriously wished he could fly into space and never come back.

"F this!" he cursed under his breath, pounding the pavement with his fists. "F this stupid world!" This time he didn't mean F for Fabulous; instead, it was F for… you know.

And before I go on to the next part of this story… 50,000 yen is about five hundred dollars.

That could pay for approximately 86 bowls of shio ramen.

XOXOXOXOXO

Night had descended upon Shibuya, and still The Prince was penniless… er, yen-less. But not for long, if he could manage to get his last resort of a plan to work.

He wandered the streets in search of a suitable customer. There was someone standing listlessly under a spotlight, wearing typical jeans and a shirt. The person's hair was moderately long.

_Aha!_ thought Eiji, gearing himself for action. _That girl might be a good start._

He approached her from behind and cleared his throat. "Hey, babe, looking for a good time? I can offer my services for 3000 yen per half hour. I'm discreet, safe, and most importantly, enjoyable. What about it? Willing to come get some hot stuff?"

What an unusual turn of events! Eiji had actually considered working as a… social escort? He _did_ have the looks and physique, and with a bit of luck, money would be relatively easy to make, but still… this was wrong on so many levels.

He continued to tempt the girl with seductive lines. It made him shudder to do what he was doing now, but he had no choice. Much to his delight, she responded by turning around to face him and give him an answer.

Only problem is…

"Oh, hon, what a handsome one you are. Since you offered, let's go someplace private, shall we?"

Eiji cringed and shrunk to half his size upon seeing the face. It was a guy!

"Hmmm, tall, articulate, and muscular…" said the effeminate man, with a voice disturbingly high-pitched enough to induce nightmares in children. "You are sooo my type!"

"Oh, um, I kinda made a mistake, pal," mumbled Eiji, taking little steps backwards as the man he mistook for a girl approached him. "So I gotta go. I'm outta here."

To his horror, the man lunged at him, aiming to give him a bearhug. Eiji leapt away just in time, narrowly avoiding him, and ran for his life, with the man chasing him down with strings of lovehearts in his wake.

"Why are you running away? Don't be shy!" he called, taking wide, comically girlish strides. "I'm HT Masuoka. What's your name, hon? Let's get to know each other better!"

"This is madness!" cried Eiji. "I didn't ask for this!"

And then, like a bad running gag, the policeman whom he was friends with by now appeared out of nowhere and started pursuing him too, but for a completely different reason. What were the odds of meeting the same person three times in the space of a single day? Even in romantic films this kind of probability was simply impossible. "Not you again! I saw what you did!" he yelled angrily. "If you want to make a living as an escort, forget about it! Such businesses are illegal around these parts!"

After an exciting, adrenaline-infused chase that would put blockbuster action films to shame, Eiji lost the race when he wound up in a dead end with nowhere else to go – kind of like his last job. HT Masuoka had thankfully fled when he saw the policeman, but a bigger dilemma had presented itself.

"Eiji Oji, I would have thought that you would have learnt your lesson by now," said the policeman, producing another ticket. "But I guess I was wrong."

Our poor hero knew that written on that ticket was an even bigger fine. He also knew whatever he had to pay would be beyond his means. His head was in a whirlpool thinking about how many bowls of shio ramen he would have to sacrifice to save up enough money to pay up. He would be dead before he got up to a tenth of the total amount!

At that very moment, Eiji just surrendered. He gave up at last. He wasn't one to give up, but no matter what he did, he was met with failure, so he might as well just call it quits. Which may be a good decision, but we'll see.

"Sir," he said, getting on his hands and feet, "please, I'm begging you. I have no life, every day is torture for me… Wouldn't you just arrest me and send me to jail? It'll be much easier for me!" At the very least he would have food and a free place to stay. As for the inmates who were probably robbers, molesters, drug dealers, serial killers… well, he'd probably get used to them in time. Assuming they didn't cut his throat first.

The policeman raised his eyebrows, surprised. "And here I thought you would be begging me not to give you another ticket."

"Please, sir! I can't take it anymore. I'm hungry, I'm broke, and in short I'm just a useless guy. Please help me out of this hellhole. Please put me in jail!"

The policeman sighed and shook his head upon listening to him. _Another sad youth with no dreams or ambitions or whatever_, he thought, watching him cry rivers of tears. _I'll set him straight alright._

"I understand you're tired with life and lack direction," said the policeman. "And yes, being in jail might put an end to your daily woes…"

Hope rose in Eiji's heart. And then it was dashed.

"But that's not the way to solve your problems. You have to overcome them, not run away from them." The police officer, in a genuinely kind gesture, clapped his hand on Eiji's shoulder to comfort him, though it did nothing at all. "That is how life should be. Don't you think?"

"Um… I guess… ahaha…"

"Great to see you finally understand!" said the policeman cheerily. "Now see to it that you pay that fine and you can start looking for ways to mend your life. Don't ask me for any more favours though. I'm a busy man." He walked off, pleased that he had helped another aimless person to forge his own path… or so he thought.

The ticket mentioned that his newest fine was a hefty 200,000 yen, but Eiji didn't care to read it.

He was tired with his pathetic life, and all his plans were exhausted. What could he do now?

Then he had an idea. A splendid one. And if it worked, it would benefit him, and in fact everyone in general. So he went home to prepare. But instead of being enthusiastic like before, he was strangely despondent. Looking at him in this state, it was hard to tell if he was The Prince or The Zombie.


	3. Chapter 3

**Whatever (Part 3)  
**by BrDPirateMan

Suicide. That was Eiji's grand plan. His finest strategy that could lead to no wrong… maybe. He had spent a lot of time considering the implications of his actions, but his mind was set.

With suicide he could at last say goodbye to all his money matters, his substandard apartment, his monster of a landlady and everything else that was wrong with the world. He thought back to his friend Ken Doi's words: "Remember, the world's a slate, and you're the chalk!" _Yeah, right, the world's a slate alright_, thought Eiji cynically, _but the slate is broken, and the chalk has turned to powder!_

Committing suicide turned out to be harder than it looked, though. Not because he had a weak will, but because of… economics.

There was not enough money in his savings to buy a gun, let alone a single bullet. He still couldn't afford that damn ramen, for goodness' sake! Owning firearms was illegal in Japan anyway. Although he no longer cared about the world at this point, he knew that if he was arrested and thrown into jail, he wouldn't ever get a chance to kill himself.

He had no sharp blades in his possession, and his scissors were so blunt that the blades might as well have been made from plasticine.

"Even before death, convenience continues to elude me!" he cried, clutching his head in both hands in agony.

So out he went onto the streets again, hoping to find something that could put an end to his misery. Actually, everything that he laid his eyes on had killing potential. There were so many creative ways to die; he just had to pick one and go with it. The problem was, they tended to have multiple results, more often than not leading to a "what if" situation.

For example, there was a bunch of girls on the other side of the road, seemingly having a fun night out. He could harass them and make them mad so they would unleash their kung fu skills on him. But should they run away and call the police, it would be all over for him. Hmm… where was that raging pink-haired chick when he needed her?

Oh, I know! Maybe he could go to the local zoo and hop into the lions' enclosure. But on second thought, it was twenty miles away, and to get there he'd need to take a train, costing him 350 yen for the trip. Admission into the zoo would require an additional 500 yen. Did he have enough money? No. And maybe the lions wouldn't even be interested to eat him.

Just then he caught sight of a speeding car. It was traveling very fast and the driver had the audacity to run through a red light. The confusion caused several cars to screech to a halt. The air was filled with the melody of blaring horns and flying swear words. A light bulb lit up in Eiji's head. It would be simple enough to dash into the path of a car and get himself smashed to bits. There could be no escape from death. _Yeah_, he thought, beaming, _let's do this!_

But first, he had to observe the traffic carefully and wait. Japan may be a country full of law-abiding citizens, but there _had_ to be one or two who didn't conform to the rules of its society, right? It was nighttime right now, and midnight racers could sometimes be heard tearing down the streets with their loud mufflers blaring. He was looking for those speed demons, but it was easier said than done. None of the cars at this time of night went past thirty miles an hour. He didn't want that! His goal was a car doing at least a hundred so he could have a quick and easy death. What was the use of cuts and scrapes?

_Come on, man!_ he grumbled, together with his tummy, _I don't want the hunger to hurt anymore…_

Suddenly he became aware of a certain sound off in the distance. Over the din of chatter from pedestrians and other non-descript noises, there was a single discernible sound. Didn't that sound like the approach of a really fast sports car? Then that was his ticket to salvation! _Yes!_

The car was closing in so quickly. Stuck in a swamp of hopelessness, Eiji had chosen death as the ultimate solution to his problems. He had no second thoughts. His mind was made up. This was it. It was now or never.

At the last moment, he leapt out into the path of the car. The headlights flashed brightly in his eyes, temporarily robbing him of his sight. It couldn't have been more than a couple of metres away from him at that point, so he knew it was all over for him. It was the moment that he had been waiting for.

As though in slow-motion, his final thoughts came together in his head, like a mental farewell speech before he stepped into the underworld. _Finally_, he thought, smiling inwardly, amid the shrieking of the car's brakes in his ears, _no more troubles… no more worries… Goodbye, cruel world… Goodbye, cruel society… And…best of all, goodbye, Mrs Kitamura! You know I hate you so much! Well, you're never going to get a single yen of rent from me now! Take that!_

Two seconds and the car would ram into him head-on, ending his useless life.

One more second and he would be able to experience the joys of Nirvana… It was amazing how much his imagination could work in the very last second of his life. So many questions flooded his mind. What was it like beyond the gates of heaven? Was it overflowing with mirth and happiness like so many people claimed it to be? Most importantly, would there be shio ramen? Oh what the hey, having eaten so much of it by now, he was sick and tired of it. The more expensive tonkotsu ramen sounded more right up his alley! And it couldn't hurt to get back the fame that he used to have as The Prince. Ah, how he longed to have fangirls… uh, fan-angels… swooning within a radius of five yards of him all over again!

Indeed, if heaven was like what he envisioned, it would be the perfect place for him.

There was just one minor setback.

When he opened his eyes, he found out he was still alive.

The car had miraculously stopped just in time, mere millimeters in front of him. Eiji just stood there like an idiot, frozen to the spot with his arms outstretched like he wanted to give someone a hug. Brimming with growing frustration, he found himself unable to wrap his head around how his well-calculated plan could have failed so miserably, like all his other plans. Maybe he just wasn't cut out for strategy.

Everyone nearby was murmuring and expressing their shock over Eiji's daredevil act. Some thought that he had lost his mind, while others saw him as one of those worthless youths who did nothing but have fun making fools out of themselves. They directed insults at him, but none of them he heard. He just crumpled to his knees muttering, "Why… Why…" to himself.

In the meantime, the driver of the car emerged from his vehicle, terribly incensed at Eiji's behaviour. He started scolding him right then and there, using an abundance of swear words, which for the benefit of our readers will be replaced with more suitable substitutes: flowers, anyone?

"You stupid _tulip!_" yelled the driver, managing to wake him from his stupor, "What the _hibiscus_ were you doing running out into the road like some _chrysanthemum_ moron! Had I gone a bit faster you'd be _rose_ dead! Dead, you hear me, _bougainvillea?_ Do you even have _sunflower_ common sense? Or are you just _hydrangea_ retarded? If you are insane then why the _jasmine_ are you not in some _carnation_ mental asylum, you piece of _azalea!_ Of all the…"

"I-I'm terribly sorry, sir," stammered Eiji, getting over the shock of yet another failed plan, "I'll be outta your hair now." With that he ran off into the night.

"Hey, get back here! I'm not finished yet, you _teddy bear!_"

I know teddy bears are not flowers, but I ran out of flower names. Sorry.

XOXOXOXOXO

Leaning against a lamp-post to catch his breath, Eiji stopped to think about what he could do next. Speeding cars were out of the question now. Somehow all their drivers had god-like reflexes. Maybe they played "Ninja Gaiden" on a regular basis.

What was next? Maybe he could fall off a rooftop. But knowing his luck (is this considered an abundance of luck or lack thereof? Hard to tell), he would probably be saved by getting caught in the branches of a nearby tree, or by a sudden but ridiculously strong updraft of air. He could open up a manhole cover, drop inside and disappear in the sewage forever. Yet, considering all that had happened so far, it wasn't too hard to imagine how that the sewage level would be so low that it would be impossible to drown. Of course, being so weak now, he wouldn't have been able to lift the manhole cover in the first place.

How did it make any sense that when he was desperately clinging onto life, death by hunger was just a step away, and now that he embraced death, staying alive was something he couldn't avoid? Maybe whoever or whatever out there who was in charge of all the luck in the universe was making his life hell just for kicks.

Suddenly Eiji spotted a peculiar object on the sidewalk which piqued his interest. Normally, in his deranged "dammit-kill-me-please" state, he wouldn't have bothered taking a second glance at some piece of trash on the ground, but it seemed different. Curious, he bent over to take a closer look.

Imagine his surprise when he discovered that it was a wallet! His eyes bulged out. He wasn't dreaming, was he? When he made sure that he wasn't, he lost no time scooping it up. Oh, what a find! A wallet it was, bound in leather and bursting at the seams with cash!

With great speed he ducked into an alley so that no one would grow suspicious of him as he filtered through its contents. _1000 yen, 2000, 3000…_ As the number rose it grew harder for him to count; his hands were trembling like he had been struck by lightning. By the time he had finished, he was shaking so badly that he almost dropped it.

"Holy…!" he gasped, drawing in a ragged breath, "64,300 yen! Who in the world packs in this much in a single wallet? Ah hell, who cares." Succinctly put, Eiji. Respect. That's right, who cared when you had money now?

"Yes! Finally, I have money! _Money_…!"

At long last he had some yen at his disposal, and his earlier plans of suicide were quickly forgotten. It wasn't an infinite amount, but it was enough to keep him alive for a good while, probably a month, two if he was more frugal than usual. And he didn't have to worry about getting breakfast now. Every morning there would be food on the table and, most importantly, in his stomach. Suddenly, money became his best friend. Well, it had always been his best friend, but having been down in the pits, he treasured it even more.

Oh, it was simply too wonderful for words! He was tempted to sing with joy at the top of his voice. "Oh my god! I'm so happy I could totally write a new song right now, no, two!" he squealed, suddenly bursting with energy and an influx of CR34TIV3 P0W3R5 (um, for the uninformed and leet-speak-illiterate, dat jumble of letters n numbers j00 just saw meant 2 read "creative powers". But then hey, j00 prolly knew dat already, rite? LOL).

Eiji's mirth was cut short by a snicker coming from behind him, deep within the dark alley. "Wh-Who's there?" he demanded.

A man in slacks and a hoodie stepped out of the shadows wearing a menacing look underneath a reversed baseball cap. His laughter was soft but unpleasant. Eiji knew this type of person. It was the type of guy with no job, no education, no purpose in life, existing only to feed off of someone else's money. In more ways than one he was more hopeless than Eiji.

"What's with you?" snapped Eiji, stuffing the wallet into his pocket in a hurry. "What do you want?"

"Gimme da wallet, man," breathed the creepy hip-hop wannabe, approaching Eiji who jumped when he saw a knife in the man's hand, "Gimme it. Now."

But obstinate as ever, our hero said, "No way. I've been waiting too long to get some cash. I'm not just gonna hand it to you! Go eat your cap and kill yourself."

"Damn you, you son of a…" The man grew angry and thrust his knife forward. Fortunately, Eiji ducked at the last moment and took the opportunity to throw a punch right at his family jewels. The pain was too much for the would-be robber. So much, that all he could utter was a few mice-like squeaks while his eyes threatened to fall out of their sockets. Come on, any hit between the legs is sure to hurt. Eiji knew that all too well…

As Hip-Hop Newbie lay writhing on the ground in an extreme degree of pain, Eiji fled down the alley. When he emerged out the other side, he turned and stuck his tongue victoriously at his fallen opponent.

"Take that, pal!" he laughed, moonwalking across the quiet, deserted road. Moonwalking? Man, was he ever so delirious with happiness. It's amazing what money can do to a person. "That'll teach you to mess with The Prince!"

Then a lorry zoomed in from nowhere and hit him. Like, BAM. Or whatever.

The driver immediately got out and freaked out over the bloody sight that greeted him. While he called the ambulance and the police, a stray dog peed over Eiji's dead body. What a cruel and pathetic way to die. But then, death was what he originally wanted, right? Oh wait, not anymore. In that case… oops.

XOXOXOXOXO

Eiji lay on the ground, motionless as a rock. Everywhere it was deathly quiet. No cacophony of noise coming from people's conversations, no singing of birds or chirping of crickets… no sounds.

_Where am I?_ His mind was floating freely.

He opened his eyes, but all that greeted him was a dark empty space. A void with no life… only nothing. Though not for long…

A sharp voice from behind startled him. "Hey, spicy tuna roll freak." Eiji turned swiftly, and Neku was standing in front of him with a mocking face. What was the kid doing in a place like this?

He felt a gentle tap on his shoulders. Looking behind, he saw a bespectacled girl holding up a bunch of CDs. "Hey mister," Shiki said politely, "Wanna buy some Prince albums? They're going cheap 'cause no one wants them."

"Wh-What's going on?" Eiji started to panic as even more familiar faces arrived on the scene to harass him. Among them was Ken Doi, who was bellowing in a spooky voice, "You still owe me 16,000 yen… Where's my money? Where? Give it back to me now… Now…"

Eiji ran away in the opposite direction, his heart bashing repeatedly against his ribcage. Loud barking could be heard behind him. Wait, barking? To his horror, when he glanced over his shoulder as he ran, he saw his previous boss from Sunshine Fast Food in pursuit of him. His twelve dogs were on leash and excitedly giving chase, and he had donned roller blades and was holding onto their leashes, tagging along for the ride. It looked fun, actually… if you weren't Eiji, that is. "Aaaargh!" the poor guy screamed.

And then suddenly Eri, angry as ever, materialized out of thin air and did a leg sweep at his head.

"Pervert!" she cried, watching him fly off with his whole body spinning like a top. Fortunately his fall was broken when someone caught him in his arms. When Eiji looked up at the face of his rescuer, he screamed again, seeing that it was the policeman!

"Just for you, young man," said the officer with a malignant glint in his eye, "I'll give you a super deluxe fine." Eiji shuddered. A super deluxe fine! How much was it? He may have no idea what was going on, but receiving a fine still came as something of a big shock.

The policeman dropped him on the ground, flinging his ticket into his face, and almost immediately another man climbed on top of him.

"Wha?"

"Oh hon, I've finally found you," whispered HT Masuoka, developing a sickeningly deep blush on his cheeks. "You're so shy. Don't be. Let me take care of all your daily needs…" Like magic, he produced a plate full of spicy tuna rolls from behind his back. He took one and said with a playful voice, "Now open wide, hon… Here comes the spicy tuna roll train! Choo choo!"

"Arglrmaphg!" was all Eiji could say as the disgusting Masuoka lovingly crammed food into his mouth. "Eat up!" cooed Masuoka. "There's more, and when you're done, you can have me as dessert…"

"Shove off, you dirty young man," said Mrs Kitamura, roughly pushing him off. "He's mine! I can never resist a man with a flair for belts and straps!"

This was all too much. Eiji spat out the rest of the food and yelled, "HELP ME! This is a nightmare! Please… Please let me die…!"

Another voice joined the madness, but it was a voice he had never heard before in his life. "Are you stupid?" it said, and it was evident from the tone that it belonged to a girl. "You're already dead."

"Huh?"

Eiji's eyes snapped open and he was shocked to find that he was inside a large but bare room, not the streets of Shibuya. Everywhere it was blindingly white. The walls, the floor, the ceiling… everything. Who was the interior designer who came up with this horrible colour scheme that clashed despite having only one hue? He wished he had his sunglasses on him. The whiteness was too much on his groggy, fuzz-filled eyes.

Standing before him was a woman. He gasped when he suddenly noticed her presence. Her shapely body was one to behold, and her blue-grey sweater was snug and tight, emphasizing her curves. A pair of micro pants, knee-length boots on her feet and the pinkest hair in the world completed the look. Some kind of mild vanilla-based perfume was emanating from her. To Eiji, she looked hot.

"So," she began, staring him down, "a new Player, I see. And already having nightmares before the Game even started."

_Player? Game?_ "Um, what are you talking about?"

"Eh, my apologies. Forgot to introduce myself, but whatever," said the woman, "You're talking to Uzuki Yashiro and you've just died."

"Died?" Eiji was confused. "What is with you?" _I'm dead? Yeah, okay, right. So this girl is young, hot… and loony. What a great combination._

"Idiot!" snapped Uzuki. She sighed and ran a hand through her short watermelon-coloured locks in exasperation. "Don't they teach you new Players anything anymore? Do I have to explain everything?"

"Um… can you tell me where I am right n– "

"Shut it and listen!" With hands perched on her hips she began the briefing. "I don't care if you don't want to believe what I'm gonna say, but it's the truth, okay? If you don't believe that, you've got a problem with reality, and that's not my problem. Got a problem with that, pretty boy?"

"N-No… But where – "

"I'll make it short, okay? You just died. So now you get to play the Reapers' Game so you can come back to life. Got it?"

"Um, that doesn't help matters one bit… For one thing, I don't know where I am at the moment, so – "

"Ugh! I could slap you!" grumbled Uzuki. "Fine! I'll give you the whole spiel, and after this, I swear, I'm going to issue an order to all the Reapers to do this kind of work for the new Players."

"Wh-What Reapers? And where is this – "

"Shut up! I wasn't talking to you!"

XOXOXOXOXO

Once Uzuki had finished her speech, Eiji stared at her in shock. Then all the insanity that he had accumulated over the years brought itself to a head and he became a raving mad maniac.

"Are you insane?" he cried, ironically, before rambling rapidly in a single sentence consisting of 102 words, "You're telling me that I'm dead and I have to play this stupid game where if I win I get to return to life and if I don't I get erased into oblivion and I have to complete missions given by the Game Master who is in charge of running the Game and there are freaky creatures out there called Noise or something who want to eat me up and turn me into Soul goo or whatever so I have to fight them to survive and on top of that I have to work with someone who's as dead as I am?"

"Uh… I kinda got lost by, like, the fourth or fifth word there," muttered Uzuki, "but yeah, that's the gist of it."

"And you're a Conductor?"

"No, I am _the_ Conductor, and _I_ decide if you get to go back to life! You'd do well to respect me! Anyway, now that you more or less understand how things work here, I'll just let you know that the Game starts tomorrow. I look forward to your performance, Eiji Oji, so don't mess up."

"Um, but this place…"

Ignoring him (she was fed up with him by now), she turned and walked away, calling over her shoulder, "Try not to get erased. Good luck." With that she left the room, opening a hidden door and disappearing into the blackness beyond it. Alone once again, Eiji slumped to the floor.

"Can someone tell me where I am again?"

XOXOXOXOXO

The Prince's demise went unnoticed in the media. A pitifully small article about his death, exactly fifty words long, was found in a relatively unseen corner of the local newspaper, hidden among the middle pages and easily missed.

That's not to say that it was completely ignored by everyone. A few people did notice. Ken Doi, the owner of Ramen Don, was one of those people. His first reaction was shock, but his second was joy. "So Eiji is dead, huh? YES!" He pumped a fist in the air. "Now he wouldn't come to borrow money from me anymore! It just sucks that he couldn't return the 16,000 yen I lent him, but that he's gone more than makes up for things!" To celebrate his friend's passing, he declared happy hour and everyone had fun having ramen that was reduced to half price. Occasionally he would retire to the privacy of his storeroom to do pelvic thrusts and dance to "Macarena".

And then there was Makoto Miki, the businessman who was also the owner of the Shadow Ramen restaurant, seller of expensive cold noodles. He was more sympathetic, but hardly caring. "It's too bad," he mused, "I knew I should have roped in his help to promote my restaurant when I still had the chance. Talk about wasted opportunities."

Hearing what they had to say, Eiji, in Player form, couldn't believe it. Did even his old friends hate him that much?

The Reapers' Game had not officially started and all the Noise were on leash thanks to the efforts of the Reapers themselves, so all the Players were free to roam around for a day while Game Master Kariya was busy settling things. Eiji spent his time milling around the whole city aimlessly. He found himself at Miyashita Park where skateboarders were tearing up the place with their uber tricks.

He spied a long-haired brunette sitting on a bench reading a newspaper, and peered over her shoulder. She was reading the page with the article about his death on it, but it didn't look like she paid much attention to it at all. He sighed heavily. Was his life so pathetic that even his death was such an unimportant affair? He may no longer be The Prince, but there had to be a legion of his staunch supporters somewhere in Shibuya. There was no way there wasn't any; the city was huge with many people.

Suddenly, the long-haired girl gasped as her eyes hovered around the area where his article was found. "Oh my god!"

"What is it, Ai?" asked her friend, a pretty short-haired girl with a jumper wrapped stylishly around her waist.

"Oh, this is just terrible. Look, Mina, look!" Both girls crowded their faces in front of the page.

The Prince began to shed tears. He was so moved. So there were indeed people who cared about him in this world after all! It wasn't all hopeless!

"What? That _is_ terrible, Ai!" said Mina, frowning. "The sale at 104 Building is coming to a close and we haven't even gone to buy anything!"

_Huh?_ Eiji looked closer, and discovered that the girls had actually been looking at an advertisement that was placed right next to his article. It took up more space on the page and despite the fact that it comprised mostly of one-word statements like "Awesome!" and "Cool!" and a whole bunch of witty one-liners, it had even more words than his article. Which was just sad.

They weren't talking about him at all!

But Mina caught sight of the article about The Prince's death eventually. "Hey, what's this? '_The Prince dies at age_ –"

"Whatever, forget about that," snapped Ai, shutting the newspaper and tossing it into the nearby dustbin. "We've got clothes to buy, pronto! Come on, there's no time to lose!"

"You're right, Ai," agreed Mina. "Let's hustle!" The two girls sped off like a couple of whirlwinds in the direction of their favourite hangout spot.

The solemn wind half-heartedly kicked up dry leaves from the ground. Then, seemingly tired of movement, it died down and the air was still. It was the very picture of sadness… Eiji stood in place, a hopeless husk of a man. In life or in death, there was no way of escaping the cruel fate of being completely ignored when he should be revered. But let's face it, at the end of the day, what happened to him was all his fault.

Or maybe I just hate the guy so much that I want to depict him as a total lame-O… maybe. Fanfiction writers can be pretty cruel, you know. But in any case…

"I've never felt so empty in my life…" he uttered miserably.

"Oh?" said a voice behind him. "Why, that wouldn't do at all, dear. Hee hee…"

Eiji whipped around to locate the person who spoke just now. It was a teenage boy with a slightly girlish face, framed by shockingly grey hair that fell around his shoulders in curly wisps. Smart casual was his preferred mode of attire, judging from the simple shirt and slacks he was wearing. And he had the strangest eyes… they were purple.

"Dear me," gasped the boy in mock concern, "Have you been feeling so down this whole time? Maybe you need someone in your life…" His soft chuckles sent shivers down Eiji's spine, and not in a good way. He was about to demand who the dickens the boy was and why he was here randomly harassing people, but he had already introduced himself.

"Yoshiya Kiryu at your service," he said, wrapping a lock of silky hair in one finger and twirling it round over and over again. "Or you can call me Joshua… whichever suits your fancy…" Eiji got a big wink from him, and he almost thought that it was a certain guy-crazy pervert in disguise…

"You're not HT Masuoka, are you?" asked Eiji, steeling himself for the moment when he would scream "Oh yes, hon! Come here and I'll show you some real lovin'!"

But Joshua did no such thing, though it was easy to imagine that he would. After all, he had all the masculinity of a girl. I mean, I wouldn't be surprised at all, if it transpired that he had a secret hobby of dressing himself in a bunny suit, and parading around the Reapers' Headquarters once a week like everything's okay. With his leg stockings and bunny ears and fake boobs. You never know! He may be trying to trick guys into making passes at him, and, uh… never mind. Whatever.

Joshua shook his head. "HT Masuoka? Oh well, it's flattering to be mistaken for your lover. Hee hee…"

"Shut up, whoever you are!" snapped Eiji, obviously having more than a bad day by now. "I don't care who you are, or what you do, and you can go fall off a cliff for all I care. I'm out." He started walking away.

Joshua's face did not show any change of emotion whatsoever. With his haughty attitude intact, he drawled, "Hmmm, I wonder if you should be talking to me like that." When he got no reply, he vanished in the blink of an eye and instantly appeared in front of Eiji.

Shocked by his sudden appearance, Eiji almost toppled and fell to the ground. "Wha… How did you do that?"

"Like I said, I wonder if it would be wise of you to speak to me so rudely like you did just now," said Joshua, with a sardonic smile plastered on his face. "I'm no ordinary being, as you can tell."

"What the hell are you, an alien?"

A bulging vein popped up on the side of Joshua's head, indicating a very seldom seen sign of irritation. It was an indescribably rare thing to happen to the normally calm and collected prissy kid. So rare, that it began snowing in the Sahara. You could sling insults at him, kick him in the shin and threaten to chop off all his lovely hair, but he would still have an annoying smile ready for everyone. But this… being called an alien of all things… something about that word just ticked him off… He needed to punish this fool, and thoroughly too…

"An alien I am not," replied Joshua, trying to keep his voice from breaking in petty rage. "but I'm the Composer. You know, the one in charge of organizing this Reapers' Game? I hold all of the Players' destinies in my palm."

Composer? The pink-haired chick – no, the one with shorter hair – Uzuki, was it? She had said something about a "Composer", and this kid, with his gangly frame and girlish demeanour, was actually claiming to be this powerful being?

What a laugh! If Eiji wasn't in such a foul, stressful mood, he would have laughed his head off in front of the kid.

Still, he couldn't resist a quiet, cruel snigger. He didn't care that he was doing it knowing that Joshua would get offended. The boy looked so weak and harmless, and a little bullying couldn't hurt. Besides, it reminded him of the times when he was famous and poked fun at the clothes of less fashionable souls. Ah, such memories…

"Uh, right, the Composer," said Eiji, "Well, why don't you create some miracles or something? Like make a spicy tuna roll appear out of thin air, that'd be awesome."

"Ooh, you're a brave one," retorted Joshua, flicking a stray frond of hair from his face. "Or you could be simply stupid. Either way, I wouldn't know… until you see this."

Without taking his violet-eyed gaze off of Eiji, he snapped his fingers, and at that very instant, a beam of light rained down from the sky and crashed down on someone, most probably another Player. The hapless guy screamed and disappeared into static, much to Eiji's horror. This kid… no, Lord Joshua, wasn't joking at all. To be truthful, that act of frying another soul without remorse didn't convince him that Joshua was the Composer, but the fact that he possessed frightening powers was enough to respect him a hundredfold. Heck, Eiji was more than happy to spit-shine his shoes if it meant staying alive (alive?) for a little longer.

Joshua smiled. "Want to see me make spicy tuna rolls?"

"N-No! I mean, no thanks," stammered Eiji. "I'm cool with that, sir. Sorry, but I think I'll be off for now…" He turned to leave and run away, but all of sudden he found himself levitating and stuck in mid-air, unable to move or help himself.

"What's going on?"

"You are a very disrespectful Player, Eiji Oji," giggled Joshua, liking the effect he was having on the poor ex-singer. "I'm not done with you yet. It looks like I have to teach you a lesson…"

"Wait! L-Let me go, please!" shrieked Eiji, afraid that he would get blasted into a million itty-bitty pieces.

"Shut up, dear." Joshua used his powers to telekinetically throw him onto the ground, whereupon he pinned him in place. Then he climbed atop him, straddling his paralyzed body. Eiji yelped as he stayed trapped and helpless underneath Joshua. Uh-oh, I know what you're thinking. I know what's on your mind. And you know what? What Joshua wanted to do next… it's exactly what you think it is.

"Whoa, what?" Eiji tried to break free, but he could move not a single muscle. "G-Get off me!"

"Sorry, no can do, dear," chuckled Joshua, fiddling with the buttons on his own shirt before stripping it off. Right in the middle of the street. Although none of the people from the RG could see them, there were still Players around, and those that happened to be nearby were in for a rude shock when they saw two guys about to… uh, do "something". All of them ran for their lives… souls… whatever, unwilling to commit such a disgusting scene to memory.

"I still need to show you how to respect your superiors. And since you're too cute for words, I might as well take that into account for your punishment. Plus I can enjoy myself a little. It's been so long since I met a nice guy like you. After this, let's go back to my pad and I'll show you how I look in my prized bunny suit…"

"No, stop it!" Eiji screamed, as Joshua's deft fingers started working on his pants. "NOOOOOOOOOOOO!"

I'll leave what happened after that to your imagination. Because if I described everything in full detail, you'd all vomit in disgust and make a mess. Though it's already disgusting enough as is… Turns out that Joshua really does have a fetish for bunny suits. But just for the record, I don't like boy-love stories and I certainly don't write them.

And thus ends the sad tale of Eiji Oji, formerly The Prince. It's true that I said it was sad, but I never really liked him, so it was more like a happy, funny tale... for me at least. He used to be so cocky and arrogant, twisting the minds of innocent girls so they would fawn over him like they were possessed. The girls who willingly chased after him were no better. Who in the world has such thick skin as to scream "Oh Your Majesty!" in his presence? Seriously, I don't care how nice those girls are in person, they're just plain stupid.

He was impolite too! Who in the world goes round calling people spicy tuna rolls! Just because I'm wearing a Sheep Heavenly shirt doesn't mean you have to say it looks awful. And look who's talking, anyway. For one thing, a guy wouldn't wear boots with such high heels. I know they don't look like it, but the truth is – brace yourselves – they're stilettos. With six-inch heels. Apparently he thought they were nice. No wonder he always had this weird, awkward pose like his backbone was bent when he was young and it stayed that way. Maybe he was trying to keep balance or something.

Eiji Oji turned out to be such a pitiable guy in the end, didn't he? Seriously, it's amazing how a single person could become such a poor, wretched soul. It's almost like if you took his essence and made it into a new element for the Periodic Table, it would be christened… _patheticium_.

Now that The Prince was safely locked away in the UG as Joshua's very reluctant toy boy, the world has become a better, saner place. Ah… peace at last. It's up to you to decide if this is a sad ending or a happy one. Some folks might sympathise with him, but you know what? Most people in their right minds like me don't.

If you don't agree with me, that's cool too. It's your opinion, and I respect that. But you suck. Whatever.

**THE END. LIKE, WHATEVER.**


End file.
